Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.025 apart. A smaller distance means the lines are built more alike.

This number is read from the build of the lines. The bright edge is that number, carried outward until the pattern repeats.

The Wild Ride

by Louise Imogen Guiney

−0.0666 + 0.8689i

Drawing the boundary…

The Rain Is Falling

by William Sidney Walker

−0.0794 + 0.8900i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

Each poem scrolls on its own, so the two texts stay beside each other.

The Wild Ride

by Louise Imogen Guiney

I hear in my heart, I hear in its ominous pulses
All day, on the road, the hoofs of invisible horses,
All night, from their stalls, the importunate pawing and neighing.

Let cowards and laggards fall back! but alert to the saddle
Weather-worn and abreast, go men of our galloping legion,
With a stirrup-cup each to the lily of women that loves him.

The trail is through dolour and dread, over crags and morasses;
There are shapes by the way, there are things that appal or entice us:
What odds? We are Knights of the Grail, we are vowed to the riding.

Thought's self is a vanishing wing, and joy is a cobweb,
And friendship a flower in the dust, and glory a sunbeam:
Not here is our prize, nor, alas! after these our pursuing.

A dipping of plumes, a tear, a shake of the bridle,
A passing salute to this world and her pitiful beauty:
We hurry with never a word in the track of our fathers.

(I hear in my heart, I hear in its ominous pulses
All day, on the road, the hoofs of invisible horses,
All night, from their stalls, the importunate pawing and neighing.)

We spur to a land of no name, out-racing the storm-wind;
We leap to the infinite dark like sparks from the anvil.
Thou leadest, O God! All's well with Thy troopers that follow.

The Rain Is Falling

by William Sidney Walker

The rain is falling sluggishly, the night is sad and still
My weary soul is waning with thoughts of woe and ill;
The earth is cold beneath me, the heavens are black with fear;
My sleepless heart is calling thee: Oh! would that thou wert here!

Oh! would that thou wert here, with thy brow so calm and high,
Thy smile of meek affection, thy undeceiving eye;
By the worm of remorse, by the hell of a peaceless home,
By the madness of suspense, beloved, haste and come!

—
—
0:00
0:00
Track 1
Skip to main content